The Sanctuary
by The Boeshane Babe
Summary: After Ianto's death it's up to Gwen to 'sweep' his flat...


**The Sanctuary**

Gwen Cooper had broken into many places during her time at Torchwood but she never considered it a real invasion of privacy as such. This was different – this was Ianto Jones' flat…

In darkness she crossed to the windows of the main room and pulled the curtains closed before she put the desk light on. She gazed around the immaculately tidy sitting room – typical Ianto, even down to the neatly stacked magazines on the coffee table. The flat had been empty now for a couple of weeks or so since the fateful day when Ianto left for work that morning just like any other morning…and then Jack and the Hub had been blown up. After that they had gone on the run, regrouped in London and that…that was where Ianto had died. Gwen suppressed a slight lump in her throat; this was awful, hideous, going through a dead man's things.

All the same Gwen knew she had to check thoroughly that there was no incriminating Torchwood stuff on the premises. She gave a slight sigh remembering that Jack had tried to be quite strict about 'taking work home' but had failed miserably. Now there was only her and Jack left. He had gone AWOL and she knew he could never face coming back to the flat…it would completely destroy him, shatter his already broken heart. For Jack's sake, for Ianto's sake, she had to do this.

Funny but it must have seemed like just another day…getting up, heading off to work…except you never came home. She flicked on the kitchen light. His coffee cup was still in the sink where Ianto had left it. She crossed to the fridge, pulling a big plastic rubbish bag from her shoulder bag. Pulling the fridge door open and holding her breath against any pungent odours, she scooped the contents into the bag; if the stuff stayed in there much longer it would start to walk out of its own accord. She shut the fridge and looked at the 'aide memoire' chalk board on the wall next to it. In Ianto's neat writing was a shopping list 'shower gel, milk, tinned tomatoes, onions' and then other reminders 'renew car insurance, dry cleaners.' At the bottom of the board in Jack's writing was the message 'Ianto Jones has a spectacularly nice arse' with a smiley. Gwen smiled to herself; that seemed familiar somehow. On their own message board on the fridge at home Rhys had a nice line in writing cheeky messages along with the other domestic dross. Familiar and yet….had she known Ianto had all? He was a colleague, generally sweet natured and so young to have died…but other than to occasionally ask how he was, had she really known him? She had never been to this flat, never seen the little domestic things around the place that was part of the off-duty Ianto. She knew he and Jack occasionally stayed behind at the Hub together and had latterly got used to calling out or knocking before she barged in anywhere at work in the evening and she knew Jack went home with him…but she had never thought beyond that…maybe the chalk board brought that home to her. Gwen quickly inspected everything else in the kitchen – nothing to be found and it was clean and tidy like a show flat. The tins in the cupboard were neatly stacked, although there was a post-it note on the back of the cupboard which read 'Jack – stop rearranging the cupboard just to piss me off! – You are NOT funny.'

Gwen went to the bathroom next which again was clean and tidy, except for the top of the shaving foam which she presumed Ianto had left off in his haste to get to work. There were toiletries of various types in a row on the shelf together with two toothbrushes – his and his.

Next she went to the bedroom. Yes, he had definitely left in a hurry as the duvet had roughly been thrown over the bed. Gwen took in the poster of a Lamborghini Murcielago on one wall and a rather large beautiful print of a naked woman on the other. Like blokey bedrooms the world over, Gwen considered, except that his particular bloke happened to share his living quarters, his bed, with another man. Gwen sat on the side of the kingsize bed and randomly wondered whose side she was sitting on. A glance at the bedside table told her – Ianto's; there was a small framed photo of his sister Rhiannon and her family, sat at a table with paper hats on their heads…Christmas dinner she supposed. Gwen went to pull open the drawer but paused slightly – did she really want to know what Ianto kept by his bed? - This was seriously personal territory. Gwen pulled open the drawer and swept a hand inside. There was a spare watch, small trinkets which probably had sentimental value and a birthday card which had 'Love always, Jack' inside. There was a couple of gadget magazines, a red UNIT cap, several non-matching cufflinks….oh and a pair of fur-lined handcuffs, tubes of KY and 'massage oil' and mint chocolate body paint…thanks for that Ianto. Gwen did think she might roll across to the far side of the bed but she felt a twinge of guilt, somehow it seemed wrong as if two pairs of eyes were secretly watching her so she got up, walked round and sat on the other side. Strangely Jack's bedside drawer was neater than Ianto's – folded towels (by the bed? No, don't dwell on that too long Gwen love), crisply laundered silk boxers and two white T-shirts barely out of their wrapping. There was other stuff not quite so neat though – various small non-alien gadgets and tools, what looked like a studded leather dog collar (Gwen didn't know whether to feel turned-on or laugh and actually felt a twinge of both) loose photos of a woman and child that Gwen now knew to be his daughter and grandson and four photo booth pictures of where he and Yan had obviously wedged themselves in for a laugh. She smiled – most likely Jack's idea…he was such a child at times when he didn't have to play the big bloody hero.

Gwen bobbed down to look under the bed and then crossed to the wardrobe. Neat as ever – colour coded shirts and suits hung up. A flick of her hand into the clothes drawers. His spare Glock was in between Ianto's socks so Gwen carefully removed the gun and placed it in her bag.

Finally back in the main room Gwen sat at the desk and flicked open Ianto's laptop. When they had been on the run in London, perhaps aware that they might not make it back, Gwen and Ianto had exchanged passwords. Now she tapped in 'Reddragonwarrior' and she was in. The picture used as wallpaper suddenly made her heart ache. It was a photo of Ianto and Jack, heads inclined together and with Jack's arm almost carelessly thrown over Ianto's shoulder. They looked so…happy and content. Gwen looked at the picture and at Jack's face. How could you have ever thought that there could be anything between you and Jack? Rhys really was one in a million and she loved him dearly…and Jack loved Ianto, however cool he had tried to play it.

Gwen thoroughly checked all the folders but there was nothing of a sensitive nature so it looked as if Ianto had dutifully not 'brought work home with him'…well, besides bringing home his boss of course…

Gwen was pretty sure there would be nothing in 'photos' either but she couldn't resist being nosy. There was an album 'Christmas' which had more photos of Rhiannon Davies and her family. There was one called 'Tosh's birthday' which made Gwen smile and nearly well-up in equal measure, which recorded the high jinks of the Torchwood team out celebrating one evening. Gwen brought her hand up to her mouth and bit her lip slightly – oh god, it seemed like only yesterday that they had lost Tosh and Owen. There was a funny photo of a rather drunk-looking Owen and it stabbed at her heart….oh poor dear Owen…sometimes she could still remember the smell of him, of running her hands through his hair….she shouldn't remember…but she did. Gwen wondered what was in the 'Candid Camera' photo album… and found mostly random non-posed shots of Jack and Ianto around the flat…the usual 'deer caught in headlights' look, the odd rude gesture or poked out tongue. However there was also a photo of a naked Jack lying face down on the bed fast asleep with his face scrunched up in a pillow and a photo of a grinning and naked Ianto exiting the shower. Wow, impressively endowed Gwen thought to herself as she leaned forward to peer at the screen for an even better look. Stop it Cooper, what are you like…! There was 'Beach weekend' of the boys at the seaside. Gwen knew herself how rare and precious the odd weekend away undisturbed by Torchwood was. Finally there was 'Pride London' – another weekend away. In one photo they had obviously got someone to take a picture of both of them and Gwen had to swallow her emotion – dear sweet Yan and her beloved Jack, holding hands and grinning broadly for the camera. She decided it was her favourite picture and how she wanted to remember them – happy and together. She stared at the picture for some minutes trying to commit it to memory or burn the image on her retina. Mostly these photo albums weren't of the two people she had known at work…this was them in scruffy T-shirts, with bed hair and stubble, Ianto in tight jeans which showed off his long legs…and Jack was right, Gwen decided, Ianto Jones _did_ have a spectacularly nice arse. Had, she corrected herself. When aliens weren't falling through the rift and the world wasn't about to end, the youngest member of the team had reverted from world saving hero to just plain old Yan who lived in a flat in Bute with his boyfriend.

Finally Gwen turned off and shut down the laptop and looked around the room. She could now hand the place over to Rhiannon without worry. She wondered if she would find it strange wandering around here too. She got the impression that Rhiannon hadn't seen that much of Ianto in recent years and had only just found out about his relationship with Jack. What would she make of her brother's flat, the remnants of his life? Gwen suddenly ripped off a post-it note from the block on the desk and pulled out a pen from her bag. She scrawled 'their home, their sanctuary, they were happy' and left it next to the laptop for Rhiannon to find.

Gwen picked up the bag of rubbish and went towards the door. She shivered slightly almost as if she felt Ianto's eyes watching her. She almost said the word 'sorry' out loud, feeling like an intruder going through his belongings. As much as she tried to tell herself that she had to check the place, she still felt awful doing so – the domesticity of photos of weekend's away, of the shopping list and baked beans in the cupboard felt like part of her life too. When Tosh and Owen had died their homes had to be 'swept' and that was bad enough….but this somehow felt worse.

Gwen held the door open as she looked back into the darkened flat for the last time. She knew why Jack could never return here…too many memories… of everyday things liking eating dinner and watching TV, the laughter and tears, the silent moments when there was no need to speak, cross words and slammed doors, moans of passion and holding on to each other and wanting it to last for always….and they permeated the place, the walls, the furniture.

"Bye, Ianto…," Gwen whispered.

**FIN**


End file.
